Frodo the Supersmall
by Cirdan
Summary: This story is AU and meant to be mild humor. Turn about is fair play. I've moved First Age Elves into the Third Age, so now it's time for Hobbits in the First Age, a la Hobbit itself. So Hobbits arise in Beleriand, and Frodo helps Maedhros.


Standard disclaimer: All the characters, locations, some quotes, and the initial conception of this world belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, whether it be from Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, or The History of Middle-earth Volumes I-XII.  
  
Note: This story is AU and meant to be mild humor.  
Frodo the Super-small  
  
It is said that Elves awakened when the stars first lit the dark skies. It is said that the Dwarves awakened when Aule the Maker first beheld the Elder Children of Iluvatar and realized the fullness of his error in his creations. It is said that the Ents awoke from still trees when Yavanna returned to Middle-earth in its darkness because of her love for the Elves who would not be parted from the world. It is said that Men awakened with the rising of the Sun. What then is said of the awakening of Hobbits? Some say they were derived from Men, but that's not true.  
  
There is a legend, now long dead except in the Lost Songs by the Sea, that Hobbits first awoke after the Dagor Aglareb, the Glorious Battle. That Third War of Beleriand was so loud that it shook the very foundations of the earth, and from their holes, the Hobbits emerged hungry.  
  
Some believe that Hobbits awoke in the hills about Ramdal, but that's not true. Though it seems far too cold, Hobbits awoke in the Hills of Maedhros. The first Hobbit to meet the Elves is known afterwards only as Perian.  
  
Well, the meeting of Perian and the Elves was quite an unusual one. Because of his small, pointed ears and child-like stature, the Elven guards of the fortress Himring believed him to be a lost Elven child, though they'd seen no Elf quite like this one. Perhaps a Dark Elf, the Noldor murmured. Little did they know that this Hobbit was already an adult by the reckoning of his people.  
  
"I'm hungry," he said to Maedhros, Lord of Himring. Okay, so he didn't quite say it. The Hobbits didn't have a language of their own like the Dwarves. But his meaning was plain as day. Maedhros stared at the impetuous little Hobbit for several moments then burst out laughing.  
  
"Fetch him some food," Maedhros said.  
  
Thus began the odd friendship between Maedhros the Elf and Perian the Hobbit. Even after the other Hobbits awakened and wanted to move to warmer climates in the south, Perian chose to stay on with Maedhros, and his Hobbits delved into their hills, made fires as the Elves had taught them to do, and lived quite comfortably beside their taller brethren.  
  
After Perian's death, Hobbits continued to live in their hill dwellings and forgot entirely the outside world of the Big People. But one day, Frodo descendant of Perian heard of the great deeds of Men to the Elves and desired to serve the Elves in similar fashion. Thus Frodo arose from the Hills of the Hobbits, which were, in truth, the Hills of Maedhros. He offered his service to Lord Maedhros, and Maedhros was so impressed by his courteous speech and noble manner that he accepted Frodo as one of his own people. Legends (well, more like rumors) spread among the Hobbits about Frodo and Maedhros.  
  
Then, disaster. Morgoth attacked without warning in what was known as the Dagor Bragollach, Battle of Sudden Flame. Celegorm and Curufin were driven south; Caranthir fled to join Amrod and Amras; and Maglor took refuge in Himring. The Hobbits hid in their holes, and none looked out until the earth stopped shaking with battle. None save Frodo.  
  
As always, Frodo descendant of Perian was beside Maedhros when he first received news of the fire that swept Ard-galen. Maedhros blew his trumpet and summoned his Elven warriors to his side.  
  
"What about me?" Frodo piped up. "What shall I do? Shall I join the Elven archers with my sling? Or shall I join the soldiers with my knife? Or perhaps I shall mount my pony Perroch and ride out with the knights?"  
  
Half of Maedhros's men seemed ready to laugh; the other half seemed ready to yell at the Hobbit. But Maedhros looked about, and his eyes were cold and stern. Not a sound escaped the lips of his men. They fell into ranks, saluted, and filed away to their position in the great square of Himring. Then Maedhros knelt down so that he and Frodo could see each other eye-to-eye.  
  
"I have a very important task for you, Frodo descendant of Perian," Maedhros said.  
  
"Yes? Yes?" Frodo hopped with excitement. Here was his moment.  
  
"You are a very small little person, and you would not be useful in battle." At Maedhros's words, Frodo's face fell.  
  
"But what of my very important task?" Frodo said with a sniffle.  
  
"It is more important than all the battles that will be fought, and if you succeed, you shall be accounted among the likes of Finwe and Feanor," Maedhros said gravely.  
  
"I'm ready. I'm ready." Frodo began to hop eagerly again.  
  
"Very well. Frodo descendant of Perian, I need you to steal for me the Iron Crown atop Morgoth's head. Upon that crown are the three Silmarils, for which all these wars have been waged."  
  
Frodo's spirit sank to his stomach as soon as he heard his task. "You're not serious, are you? Are you just trying to get rid of me? Because if that's what you're thinking, I'll just crawl back into my Hobbit hole and stay out of your way."  
  
"No, Frodo, I am quite serious," Maedhros said with his most serious face. It was times like these that the Light of the Blessed Realm really shone in his eyes. "My heart forebodes that this battle will go ill for the Eldar, but this may be the time of the Periannath. The Elves, the Men, and even the Dwarves, are too closely watched by the Dark Lord. But he would never notice one small Hobbit, or so I hope. Take Perroch to the North as far as he will go, then hide yourself in the fortress of our enemy." Maedhros drew out a lovely scroll case of silver and gold and handed it to Frodo. "In here is a map of what I can remember of Angband. I doubt that much has changed. I do not know when the time will come, but when it does, you will know it. Make for the throneroom and take from Morgoth the Iron Crown."  
  
Now this was still utter madness as far as Frodo was concerned, but then, he was old enough to know that sometimes great people do stupid things and die valiantly to create the wonderful legends of old. So he decided to undertake this impossible task. Frodo hugged Maedhros one last time. He arrayed himself in the chainmail that had been gifted to Maedhros by Azaghal and a cloak that had been woven by Maedhros's own grandmother, sheathed the knife that Maedhros had brought forth from the Blessed Realm, and packed a goodly knapsack of food to sustain him for the journey. Then he set off on Perroch.  
  
The journey was easier than he expected. He was able to dodge most of the big company of Orcs and stayed out of the fights between the Armies of Morgoth and the Armies of Maedhros, though he did so long to aid them. And when Perroch would go no further, brave little Frodo sent his pony home and went on foot. He snuck into the Iron Fortress of Angband, and that was no small task even for such a small person. There were werewolves abound, but the ashy smoke of Morgoth hid his scent from them. And the Orcs mostly looked for taller people so often overlooked the tiniest shadows, in which only a Hobbit could hide.  
  
Still, Frodo doubted Maedhros's plan. It wasn't much of a plan. He hid and hid, but Morgoth sat upon his throne, surrounded by his captains and fell beasts, and the Iron Crown rested unstealably on his head. Many times, Frodo wanted to turn back. The black vapors choked him, and the darkness of Angband set boundless fear into his heart. He kept having nightmares that Morgoth would look his way and laugh at the silly Hobbit who'd set out on a task too big for him.  
  
But then something quite unexpected happened. Frodo heard the clear call of an Elven horn, and the very walls of Angband shook. He heard the booming challenge of King Fingolfin, son of Finwe. The Elven King called Morgoth craven and summoned him forth to combat. The dark servants looked to their Lord expectantly, and after several moments, Morgoth roused from his throne. Even Frodo could see that he was unwilling. The Dark Lord arrayed himself in black armor and wielded the deadly mace Grond. He left the safety of Angband, and all the dark servants followed to see the battle between the Dark Lord and the King of the Noldor. Frodo was tempted to sneak out to see the contest of strength as well, but he remembered his very important task and instead took the opportunity to hide in the shadow behind Morgoth's throne. He crouched there miserably for a long time, for he heard the striking of blows that resonated throughout the Iron Mountains. And then he heard the valiant cry of the King of the Noldor and knew that Morgoth was victorious. Frodo shuddered and curled up into an even smaller ball of misery.  
  
Morgoth returned to his throneroom, but his dark servants did not cheer his victory. The Dark Lord was in a foul mood. He sent all his servants and beasts away. Then he sat brooding upon his throne. Frodo stayed in his hiding place behind the throne. He thought that surely Morgoth would sense him, for there was no one else nearby to sense. But Morgoth was too preoccupied with his own dark thoughts and the hatred that he now harbored for all the descendants of Fingolfin. And then, a bigger surprise came. Frodo heard snoring.  
  
Frodo peered out from his hiding place. Sure enough, Morgoth was sleeping. He had seven wounds upon him, and from his foot oozed black blood. Apparently, even the Dark Lord needed to rest after such a fight.  
  
A vision came to Frodo then, and he did not doubt that it came from the Silmarils. He saw himself cutting the Silmarils free from the Iron Crown with his Elven knife. Frodo trembled at the thought, but he knew that this was the very task that he had been sent for. Carefully and quietly, Frodo clamored up the throne. Maedhros had told him to take the whole crown, not just the Silmarils. He held his breath as he picked it up. He expected Morgoth to wake up at any minute. But he didn't. Frodo slid down the side of the throne and then sneaked away from that dark place.  
  
Leaving Angband proved fairly easy too. Though the captains had been shocked at Morgoth's close battle with the Elven King, they had recovered and now celebrated their victory over the Elves. Many of the dark servants were drunk, and even the werewolf sentinels slept after their long nights of battle. Still, Frodo didn't get cocky. He remained cautious and out of sight, and slowly but surely, he won his way out of Angband. As much as he wished Perroch would just miraculously pop up, he didn't. And at times, he would see a band of Elves and want to ask them to escort him home with all his heart. But Maedhros had assigned him this very important task. Maedhros trusted none other, not even his brothers. Frodo took the long and sure route, and he carefully returned to Himring.  
  
Frodo went directly to Maedhros. The eldest son of Feanor was alone in his room, and he looked like he'd aged like a mortal man. He and Maglor had defended the fortress of Himring despite all odds, and the attacks from the servants of Morgoth had gradually lessened, but it had been at a great cost: the King Fingolfin of the Noldor had been slain. Frodo wondered if Maedhros always sat like that, with face in his hands and hair spilling over his hands like rivers of blood. It made Frodo feel very small to see such a great weight pushing down on the shoulders of such an important Big Person. Frodo almost wondered if he would be bothering Maedhros. But Frodo set these doubts aside and went in.  
  
"Maedhros?" Frodo said softly. Maedhros looked up, and tendrils of hair blocked his face. But when Maedhros saw him, he stood, and a look of relief crossed his face. He pushed his hair back, knelt down, and embraced Frodo.  
  
"Frodo. I've been so worried about you." Maedhros's voice cracked for a moment. He swallowed. "So many have been lost. I'd feared that I'd lost you as well."  
  
Frodo smiled and patted Maedhros on the shoulder. "It would've only been a little loss. After all, I'm just a Little Person."  
  
Maedhros hugged him tighter. "A bad joke."  
  
For a moment, Frodo thought Maedhros was going to cry, so he quickly whipped out the Iron Crown from his knapsack. "Guess what I got you," Frodo said brightly.  
  
Maedhros drew back from Frodo to behold the Iron Crown, and his face upon seeing the three Jewels of Feanor was truly beautiful. Tears of an entirely different nature filled his eyes.  
  
"You would give this to me freely?" Wonder filled Maedhros's voice.  
  
"Of course. I set out to bring this back for you," Frodo said matter- of-factly. "I was a bit worried at first that I wouldn't be able to do it, and I was scared when I heard that the King of the Noldor had fallen in combat, but actually taking the crown was quite easy once Morgoth went to sleep."  
  
"Oh Frodo, Hobbit of Hobbits." Maedhros embraced Frodo once more before rising with his eyes fixed upon the Silmarils.  
  
"So what will you do now that you have the Silmarils?" Frodo asked. "How will they change the tide of the War on Morgoth?"  
  
"The servants of Morgoth fear the Light of the Silmarils," Maedhros said. "Also, if we offer one of the Silmarils to the Valar, they may aid us in our cause."  
  
"And if that plan doesn't work?" Frodo cocked his head to the left as he looked up at Maedhros.  
  
Maedhros smiled. "There will be other plans."  
  
"So will I finally get to be in one of Maglor's songs?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Can I be Frodo the Super-small?" Frodo asked. "I don't really want to be Frodo the Fearless or Frodo the Thief."  
  
"I'll talk to Maglor, but I'm sure it can be arranged."  
  
"Oh good." Frodo skipped alongside Maedhros. "Maedhros the Tall and Frodo the Super-small. We'll make quite a legend, won't we?" 


End file.
